A friend organised a blithely bonny evening of boxing nostalgia last week in Herefordshire’s little Welsh border town of Leominster to honour one-time British and Empire welterweight champion Cliff Curvis, who has close connections with the area. It is 60 years since the Swansea stripling of 17 first answered the bell for his opening round as a paid fighter. The officers and gentry of the British Boxing Board were all there, and a general throng flocked down from the hills to pay tribute. Compatriot Colin Jones, of the beaky kestrel’s nose and a similarly hurtful left-hook, who won the very same titles (except ‘Commonwealth’ for ‘Empire’) a quarter of a century after Cliff, made a touching speech, and fond messages were relayed from other Welsh champions, from Abercynon’s dancing sprite Dai Dower (72 this year) to Nicky Piper. Wales has a remarkable prizefighting heritage and its old boys’ freemasonry is a warm one. It was good to see the ancient Cliff — scholar, gent and still full of the joys — softly revelling in the mutual affection.
Cliff was the first Brit boxer ever to fly to a contest — by Comet to Johannesburg in 1952 (Cliff lost over the full 15. Hometown decision? ‘Of course, boy!’). The jostling vitality of Welsh boxing a half century ago made it seem the Welsh were fighting each other for titles every week and at every weight. Swansea Cliff’s first epic title challenge was for Merthyr Eddie Thomas’s title. After he beat fellow ‘Swan’ Ronnie James in front of 30,000 at the Vetch Field in 1947, Cliff was clobbered on the way from the ring ‘by one of the most painful and nasty blows I remember’. It was delivered by Mrs Ronnie James.
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